The Queens' Observatory
by Pandora of Ithilien
Summary: After Anne is executed, she finds herself sharing her afterlife with someone she didn't expect. Can two people with quite a lot of bad history between them ever come to some kind of peace? And what will they think of those who follow them?
1. The People You Meet

Disclaimer: Ah, no. Not mine, I'm just having fun. And fully expecting to get haunted by the ghosts of two queens for doing this to their fictional afterlife.

_**Prologue – The People You Meet…:**_ Anne knelt on the rough boards of the scaffold, waiting for the executioner's blow. The last thing she heard was the swish of the blade through the air, but she never felt it. As she'd been told, the executioner of Calais caused little pain.

She fell into blackness and she rather felt she would fall forever. But she didn't, and presently she found she was lying on what felt like carpet. And yet, if she was lying on something, and could feel, then she must have a body. Which meant she should be able to open her eyes and see where she was. She did so, and blinked into the sudden brightness.

Not that it was particularly bright; it was just that even the many candles which lit the room were bright after that total darkness. She sat up and glanced around. The room appeared to be a sitting room of some sort, well-decorated and comfortable. The room's most striking feature was that one of the walls was made entirely of mirrored glass. Anne stood and went to it, staring at her reflection. She was in a simple emerald green dress, her pearl necklace with its golden 'B' around her throat. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, but in the dark waves sat a small golden tiara. Her reflection was something between the girl she'd been and the Queen she'd become.

Her reflection wavered, and then disappeared. Suddenly, as though looking through a window, she could see her beautiful daughter. Elizabeth, crying in the arms of her half-sister, of all people. "But why is Mama dead?" Elizabeth sobbed.

Anne could see Mary hesitate, caught between hatred of Anne herself and a clear desire not to make the little girl any more upset than she was already. "Your mama did things against the king, and she had to die for that reason. It is the law, sister," Mary said gently, stroking Elizabeth's red locks.

Anne breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Mary obviously cared enough for Elizabeth to keep things simple, and not vilify Anne more than that basic explanation required.

"She begged Papa to listen, and he didn't," Elizabeth mumbled, and Anne saw Mary flinch.

"He never does," her one-time stepdaughter whispered bitterly. Elizabeth did not hear her, but Anne, watching, did, and she felt a rush of guilt. She had not pushed for Mary's bastardy, that had been Henry's idea, though she could remember the night when an odd madness had taken her, and she had been convinced that only the deaths of Katherine and Mary would allow her to bear a son.

The image changed, and she saw Henry writing at his desk. She leaned forward and she could see what he was doing. He was ensuring that their daughter would be now known as Lady Elizabeth, bastardized and barred from succession. She bit her lip to avoid screaming in rage, but could not help saying, "Why, Henry? Why punish Elizabeth when she is innocent of everything? You hate me, but she doesn't deserve to be harmed because you've decided to hate her mother."

"Did Mary deserve it?"

At first, Anne thought the question had come from her own subconscious, but she still answered aloud. "I didn't ask him to bastardize Mary, I didn't think of her status either way, I admit, but I…" She trailed off when she realized that the voice had not been in her head, and that, moreover, it was a familiar voice.

It seemed as though ice filled her veins when she recognized the calm, accented female voice. God, no. She couldn't possibly have to… How was she supposed to handle eternity with… She turned around, facing the woman who had once been her greatest enemy and was now… what?

"Hello, Anne," said Katherine of Aragon.

A/N: OK, I have to warn any readers right now, this fic is not a priority for me at the moment. I currently have a multi-crossover series that I'm working on (and trust me, it's six fandoms, it takes a lot of work), but this idea would not let go of me. I've never been able to decide who on the show I wanted to root for, and even in history I'm not entirely sure who I prefer, Katherine or Anne. Anyway, let me know what you think.


	2. Queen of Diamonds, Queen of Hearts

_**Chapter 1 – Queen of Diamonds, Queen of Hearts:**_ Anne said nothing. She was too stunned. Of all the people to get trapped in the afterlife with, she would never have thought of Katherine.

The other woman looked good… actually, better than that. Somehow, she wasn't the older woman Anne remembered, a woman who was still attractive but clearly past her prime. It wasn't so much that she looked younger – though many of the lines carved by worry and pain were gone – as that she looked ageless, as though age did not exist here. Like Anne, she wore a small gold tiara in her dark hair, though her dress was a deep purple instead of green like Anne's.

And Anne, glancing back at the mirror and seeing them both reflected in the glass, thought that someone seeing them both now would not be able to tell which of them was older. It did not show in their faces and their eyes, filled with painful knowledge, were too similar to be effective clues.

Finally, she did come up with something to say. "I suppose you were right, in a way."

"Excuse me?"

"'He will tire of you, just like all the others.' You told me that, remember? And you were right." Anne didn't bother to keep the bitterness out of her voice, though once upon a time she would have done her level best to ensure that Katherine didn't know her feelings. But right now she was too tired to care.

"Are you actually looking for sympathy?"

"No. But at least he didn't have you executed."

"He may as well have."

"You could have stepped back gracefully."

"You could have remembered your place and not thought to take mine."

At that Anne had to laugh. "You were never going to give him a son, Katherine. If not me, it would have been someone else. Maybe not then, maybe he would have waited longer, and maybe things would not have been quite so dramatic, but he would have gotten rid of you."

"And had you not been such a fool, he would not have beheaded you," Katherine shot back. She had been here long enough to know that Anne had a point about Henry's desire for an heir; being here gave one perspective, as Anne would soon learn. "And you would not have dragged four innocent men down with you, including your own brother."

It was petty, cruel, and hardly befitting a Queen to say that, but Katherine was dead and no longer Queen, and part of her wanted to cause her one-time rival as much pain as Anne had caused her. And she got what she wanted; Anne staggered back, leaning heavily against the wall. "I didn't… how was I supposed to… He could have just annulled it, he wouldn't have much opposition. I didn't make him do that, he chose to do it that way…" Anne was whispering it, shaking her head. Then she looked up at Katherine.

"Are you supposed to be my punishment? Because I think Henry already accomplished that."

Katherine smiled ruefully. "I have no idea. I have been here since my own death, and then you arrived. Whether I am your punishment, you mine, or something else entirely, I cannot say."

"Wonderful," Anne muttered.

"Believe me, _Lady_ Anne, I'm no more pleased than you."

"I imagine not, _Princess Dowager._"

The two women glared at each other. "I wonder if that Seymour slut will be joining us in time," Anne said eventually, turning away.

Katherine thought that it was rich of Anne to call Jane Seymour a slut, though, unlike Henry or virtually everyone else, Katherine did have to agree that Jane was not the innocent flower that she seemed. She certainly knew that the charges against Anne were likely to be false – and while Katherine had no love for Anne, the woman had not deserved to die for crimes she had not committed, nor had her daughter deserved to be left motherless before her third birthday.

But neither she nor Mary had deserved what happened to them, either. And while Katherine knew it was not all Anne's fault, that much of it was Henry's vindictiveness towards anyone who denied him, Anne had still played her part. Katherine wished the child Elizabeth only the best she could have in her life, and she prayed that Mary and her small half-sister would be close in years to come, for they would need a family member to love them, but she could not absolve Anne. Even if Anne had suffered too, in the end.

It would be a trial to be here with Anne, with both of them angry with the other, neither willing to bend. Katherine knew that, but she could not forget what had happened. If she had been childless, then, perhaps she could. But Mary had not needed to be punished. It would take a long time – perhaps eternity itself – before she could truly forgive either Anne or Henry for that.

Anne, meanwhile, was staring at the mirror, which had again reverted to her daughter. Elizabeth was alone now, in her bedroom, clutching a doll which Anne remembered ordering sent to her. The toy had belonged to Anne herself once, and she'd wanted her daughter to have it, as a way to make her always there for her little girl. Now it was all Elizabeth had of her. Anne wanted to cry, but she would not be that weak in front of Katherine. Not when the woman had already struck a blow.

Damn her for that! Anne was already feeling guilty enough about dragging innocent men down with her. Brereton, she'd been told, had confessed, which she did not understand, but the others… Mark had confessed, but despite denials, she was sure he'd been tortured. And Henry Norris, and George… Her beloved brother… She thought of Mary, the sister she'd banished for daring to fall in love with the wrong man. Mary was the only Boleyn heir left, now. She'd been the smart one, forsaking court. Anne only hoped that her sister, at least, would be happy, and that the men killed with her were not suffering now, but were at peace.

A/N: This came out quicker than I thought… Apparently my muses are glad of the vacation from convoluted crossovers. Katherine may be a bit bitchier here than one might expect; however, as she says herself, she is no longer Queen, and no longer bound to the niceties that go with it. And, I confess, there's always a part of me that wants to see her serve out some payback. I don't think I'm the only one, so I figure I'm safe putting it here. Oh, and to openattheclose, I didn't want to make Katherine young again, per se, because I'm not sure Anne would immediately know her, so I decided to just… equalize them, I guess.


	3. Theories

Disclaimer: No, not mine, though my college library has a nicely large section devoted to Tudor England, and unbeknownst to them, I have staked a claim to that as my territory.

_**Chapter 2 – Theories:**_ Anne had dropped into one of the chairs, knowing she was sulking like the child she had once been, but there was nothing else to do. The mirror was blank, and she certainly wasn't going to turn to Katherine for conversation. So she sat there and brooded, racking her brains to see if maybe there was some way out of this.

Katherine studied her former rival from her own chair, knowing what was going through the other woman's mind. She herself had spent time, when she first found herself here, wondering what she had done to be trapped in a room with a mirror that showed the court that had once been her home. And now, now she wondered why, of all people, Anne should be here with her. Perhaps it was because they had both spent time as Henry's Queen; while Katherine did not believe Anne had ever been married to Henry, she _had_ held the place of Queen, in all practicality. Or perhaps… Perhaps they both had things to learn from each other, and from what they would see in the glass. She could not imagine what those things would be, but it made sense.

"Do you think someone's trying to make some sort of point?" Anne said presently, glancing up at Katherine.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are we here together because someone wants us to… I don't know, come to terms with each other or something? Is this our purgatory, and once we've done whatever it is we're meant to, we'll move on completely?"

It was not unlike what Katherine had concluded, and that disturbed her slightly. She hadn't thought she and Anne could have similar thoughts about anything. But what other theories were there? So it did make sense, after a fashion.

So she offered the idea she'd had. "Maybe there's something we need to learn, from what we see in the mirror, from each other, or even both."

"But what?" Anne asked blankly.

"If I knew, I'd tell you in hopes that it would mean we could leave this place," Katherine observed dryly.

Anne couldn't help it; she actually smiled slightly at that. It was true; they were both equally unhappy about this situation. "Well, I haven't any idea myself, but if I come up with something, I'll certainly not keep it quiet."

Katherine inclined her head slightly, a faint smile on her lips. Anne turned her head to glance at the mirror again. Nothing. If they were supposed to be learning from this, why weren't they seeing things constantly? Unless Katherine was right in saying that they had to learn from each other as well. That would require far more communication than Anne was willing to engage in, which meant they could be here for a very long time.

This was not going to work out well. Katherine could see that. Neither she nor Anne was particularly willing to speak to each other, and if they were supposed to be learning from one another… She did not want to be trapped here any longer than absolutely necessary, and yet she couldn't bring herself to start doing what needed to be done. Every time she looked at Anne, she could see only Mary, cast aside by Henry for this woman's daughter. She didn't know for sure what it was Anne thought of when looking at her, but clearly whatever it was stilled her tongue as much as Katherine's. So what were they going to do?

Anne glanced around at the same time as Katherine's gaze fell on her, and the first two Queens of Henry VIII stared at each other, both of them knowing that this impasse could not last, but not knowing how to end it. They had to talk, to find out if that was why they were here, but neither of them knew how to begin, and they didn't really want to.

"Are the two of you just going to stare at each other all day? Just have your little fight and be done with it. Please, I need the amusement."

Katherine and Anne both turned toward the voice, to find Margaret Tudor, one-time Duchess of Suffolk and Princess of England, leaning against the wall, looking at them both with an arrogant expression not unlike her brother's.


	4. My Lady Princess

Disclaimer: No, not mine, and I am very frazzled right now. Online course selection at midnight is not good for the nerves.

_**Chapter Three – My Lady Princess: **_"Margaret," Katherine said tiredly. It was not the first time her sister-in-law had appeared here. She didn't know where Margaret spent most of her time; she had spent most of hers here, though she had found that she could leave on occasion. A door would open in the wall and she would walk out, but that didn't happen as often as she would like. She hoped it would happen soon, to give both her and Anne a chance to be away from one another, but for now Margaret was here.

"Katherine," Margaret said with a smile before turning to Anne. "Well, you certainly got more than what you deserved in payback," the King's sister commented dryly.

Anne's eyebrows shot up. "I thought you hated me."

"Oh, I did, but I've been here longer than either of you, it makes things easier for me. And any dolt should have known you'd never be enough of a fool to take one lover, much less four."

"I don't think that mattered," Anne commented.

"No, the truth never matters with Henry. What he wants is everything, and his conscience will change to suit it," Katherine observed. Margaret stared at Katherine, shocked, before starting to clap.

"Finally! You admit that my dear brother is a lying fool! It only took his doing everything possible to destroy you and your daughter for you to see it!"

"I knew it for years, it simply wasn't appropriate for me to say anything."

"Then, what, pray tell, was that ridiculous letter all about?"

"Mary," Katherine said steadily. "Telling Henry how I truly felt would only have angered him, and as I would be gone, that anger would fall on Mary."

Anne watched the interaction between the two women with interest. She'd decided, once Henry began to stray from her, that Katherine must have been either hopelessly devoted to Henry or else the greatest actress Anne had ever seen. Apparently it was the latter. For some reason that amused her.

Margaret must have seen the smirk she couldn't hold back, because she turned to her with an arched eyebrow. "Do you find something amusing, Anne?"

"No," Anne said, all innocence, her eyes sparkling. Margaret scoffed, and Katherine, somewhat surprisingly, rolled her eyes at them both, muttering something irritable in Spanish. Margaret laughed.

"Well, that's certainly familiar," she quipped. Glancing at Anne, she explained, "She always had a habit, in the early days, of making little comments in Spanish when she was annoyed. It drove Henry mad."

"Margaret…" Katherine said, her voice holding an edge.

"What? The both of you are still acting as though what happened there," she gestured at the mirror, "matters here. Don't you see? It doesn't. I watched Charles marry his ward, and it angered me, but she's done good for him. She's made him faithful, which is not an easy feat, believe me. But I don't care about it anymore. Eventually, neither will you. I still watch over my Edward, but otherwise I have little interest in what's left behind. Though I admit that I enjoy coming here and spending time with you, Katherine."

"I believe 'torment' may be a better phrase."

"Well," Margaret said with a shrug, "you're my elder sister, it's to be expected. I imagine you tormented your sister Mary, did you not, Anne?"

"On occasion." Anne didn't know what to make of being suddenly included in the conversation between Margaret and Katherine, so she said nothing more than that, though she could remember how both she and George used to tease Mary, the eldest of the three. But thinking of them both hurt, for different reasons. So she pushed the memories away and focused instead on her rather strange present.

Margaret had never seemed this… playful, the few times Anne had seen her. Apparently death really did change a person. Though she didn't feel any different. But then, she wasn't quite sure how long she'd been dead. It was hard, here, to guess at time. She didn't think Elizabeth would have gotten the news of her death immediately, so she suspected that the scene she had watched earlier was at least a day or two after her execution, but she couldn't be certain.

Katherine didn't seem all that different either, except for not holding herself to the same level of discretion where some of her remarks were concerned. But Margaret had implied that it would take time. Could it be possible one day for her not to hate Henry for what he'd done, to not see Katherine as her enemy, even when they were both dead? She found it hard to believe, and yet Margaret, who had hated her, was actually being almost friendly.

It was all too much to take in. Anne could admit to herself that some of the shock caused by her swift arrest, trial, and execution had yet to fade, and to be dealing with an afterlife that was absolutely nothing like what she'd been taught to believe didn't help. The fact that she was stuck with Katherine in this situation made it almost impossible to bear. She honestly thought that if she had to face any more unexpected events, it might kill her for a second time. Although she wasn't entirely sure how that would work…

Suddenly Margaret turned to a tapestry on the wall, moved it up so that she could pass beneath it, and Anne heard the creak of a door. Katherine's head snapped around, a look of relief on her face. "What's that?" Anne asked.

"Sometimes we can leave. Though I suppose you could stay; I doubt it matters," said Katherine rather dismissively, before following Margaret. Anne scowled, irritated by Katherine's tone. It was probably that which spurred her on, making her walk through that door even though all she wanted, really, was time to herself, time to think about all of this. Maybe she could find that, at least for a little while.

A/N: OK, so about Margaret. The key thing here is that she demonstrates the idea that eventually, the dead stop caring about what happened in life – this would be why she no longer hates Anne, though if you asked, she'd say Katherine is the true Queen and Anne just a mistress. As for them being able to leave… let's just say they can't stay away forever, so this doesn't negate Queens 1 and 2 from being stuck together. They just get respites – I couldn't torment them that much. Plus, I wanted some guest stars. George Boleyn is pretty much confirmed, as is Thomas Cromwell. Others are yet to be determined… in particular I'm having trouble with a papal-wannabe Cardinal and a certain 'man for all seasons'.


	5. Interlude

Disclaimer: No, not mine.

_**Chapter 4 – Interlude:**_ Anne stepped through the door and knew immediately where she was. Hever, her childhood home. That didn't make any sense, but she decided not to question it. She'd missed this little orchard on her family's lands, and she went immediately to the bench placed under an apple tree, feeling the tension leave her as it always had when she sat here.

But her peace, for once, did not last, because sitting here, she could remember early childhood, before she and her siblings had been separated. She could almost see her younger self playing with George and Mary in the grass, and tears stung her eyes. She had not spoken for Mary when their father had banished her, and George had died so Henry could be rid of her. She was sure neither of them could forgive that – in life or after.

"Oh, don't start crying, you know I can't stand it!" said a male voice.

"George?" Anne stood, whirling around to see her brother leaning against a tree. "Oh, George, I'm so…"

"Don't, Annamaria. I'm not saying you didn't give him reason to be angry with you, but you also didn't give him any real reason to suspect adultery, especially with me. Besides, I had a good case until I decided not to keep my mouth shut about his occasional impotence. And don't get me started on Jane, that vengeful little bitch."

"George, you didn't." Anne spoke of George's comment on Henry's potency, or lack thereof. Even though it had been occasionally true, he should have said nothing.

"I was angry," George said with a shrug. "And honestly, Anne? Even if the peers had thought me innocent they would have had to declare me guilty. For if I was innocent, what of the other men? What of you?"

"But that does make it my fault! My fault that you died, and Mark, and the others!"

"No, Anne, it doesn't! Listen to me. Henry wanted an excuse, Cromwell and his people gave it to him."

Anne bit her lip. "I tried to give him a son, George, but a woman has no control over that. I know everyone thinks differently, but we don't! You know that if we did, I would have never _been_ Queen – Katherine would have given him a nurseryful of sons if women could control such things!"

George came forward and wrapped his arms around his little sister. No, he could not blame Anne for what had happened. He had been the first to know that Anne had stopped acting and had truly fallen in love with the King. He'd seen it that day when he'd stolen the letter the King had sent, when he'd read it aloud so teasingly and his baby sister had demanded its return.

_"You're not in love with him?" _

His sister's silence had said it all, and as he felt her falling apart in his arms, George found himself wondering how Henry could have convinced himself that Anne was untrue… But then, he'd convinced himself that he'd never been married to Katherine. Perhaps his family should have taken note of how Henry could turn on those who loved him, those whom he had loved, and been more cautious. But they had been arrogant, often hateful, and in the end they had paid the price for that.

Except for Mary. Sweet Marianne, who now would inherit everything. Father would have to leave it to her, there was no one else. She'd been the wisest of them in the end. George was glad she would be happy and equally glad to be here now and not in hell. A part of him had feared it, still half-believing that his affair with Mark would damn him. But he wasn't, and neither was his sister. And as for Mark…

George hadn't seen him yet. But he was certain that the other man was here somewhere, and he'd find him. He had eternity to do that, after all.

* * *

"Mother!" The young male voice rang out and Katherine smiled at Hal, as he called himself. He was the boy she'd lost after ten days of life, her Prince of Wales. Now, here, he was a young man, one she could have seen as England's future King. But it had been God's will that he not be, Katherine reminded herself, and here she was with her son again, and the other children she'd lost. They did not make up for the loss of Mary, but she could watch over her daughter, and she was certain that one day they would be reunited.

"I hear you're left with Elizabeth's mother," Hal said curiously. "At least that's what Aunt Margaret said. Is it difficult?"

Katherine decided that the next time she spoke with Margaret, she would have to mention this irritating habit of gossip her sister-in-law had. "It's fine, Hal, don't trouble yourself over it."

"Her children are here too," he said uncertainly. "I have not seen them as yet, though Isabella has." Isabella, her first child, the one she'd been told had a still-living twin, a farce that had ended with her first, useless confinement. Somehow it did not surprise her that Isabella had looked in on Elizabeth's younger siblings, Anne's children.

"Perhaps she will discover them as I found you," Katherine said, dismissing it. Hal nodded.

"Maybe," he said. "Anyway, Mother, the others want to see you, so come on!" He tugged on her hand, acting like a child, but Katherine went along willingly. When she was with her children, she truly believed that this could only be Heaven. She knew she would be sent back to the mirror room eventually, and she imagined that the same would be true of Anne, but for now, even that thought did not trouble her.

A/N: I figured I'd give them both some family stuff before we get back to "How do we deal with each other?"


	6. Supplanted

Disclaimer: Not mine. Do you actually need me to tell you that?

_**Chapter 5 – Supplanted:**_ Anne was in the middle of saying something to George when a sudden roaring filled her ears and her vision blurred. When she could see and hear again, she was back in the room she'd hoped to permanently escape, facing Katherine once more. Margaret, however, was gone.

"Is that always how it works?" Anne asked.

"Yes," said Katherine, looking not at Anne but at the mirror behind her. Anne turned, to see that the mirror was no longer blank. Instead, it showed the court, with Henry seated on a golden chair in the middle of the celebration, Jane Seymour at his side in her bridal gown. So he had married his little blonde slut. As she'd expected.

Her eyes landed on the left side of the mirror, where she could see Brandon and his wife. "He looks happy," the woman was saying. She meant Henry.

"God willing, we'll all be happy now." She wanted to hate Brandon and his wife for that, but found she couldn't summon the energy to do so. And Catherine was right; Henry did look happy. So did Jane. The Seymour woman didn't care that she'd come to the throne on a river of innocent blood – though Anne conceded that Jane might actually have believed the charges. It was unlikely, but as she was no mind reader she could not say for sure.

In any case, she had little room to comment. She had, after all, dreamed of poisoning both Mary and Katherine; she'd celebrated at the news of Katherine's death. _"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone…"_ and she was hardly without sin.

She could have made any number of sardonic comments, and part of her wished to, but all she heard herself say was, "She doesn't know what she's getting into."

"Why do you say that?" Katherine asked mildly. Anne turned around again to give Katherine an incredulous look.

"He repudiated you, had me executed on trumped-up charges. If she doesn't give him a son within a year, she's lost. For she hasn't the temperament to keep him long without a round belly, and I'm sure he'll find some way to be rid of her as well."

Katherine's smile was bitter, almost painful to see. "And you taught him how to be that way. You, and your family, and Cromwell and Cranmer."

"And we received our reward, did we not? But you did not have to live as you did. All you had to do was cooperate."

"And if it had been you, would you have done so?"

"Yes! If it meant my daughter was safe – and mark my words, my death will not mean he leaves Mary alone – I would have done anything!"

"You dare to say I would not have done anything for my child?"

"No," Anne said, her voice losing its anger. "No, I did not mean that. I simply meant that now things are worse than ever for Mary. He could have her killed too. He stops loving anyone who doesn't give him what he wants, and if your daughter won't… I would give little for her chances."

"He would not dare. The people would not forgive him."

"They didn't forgive him for marrying me either. He didn't care." Though those at her execution, at least, seemed to have forgiven her. When her eyes had opened, after the executioner had touched her face, she'd seen them kneeling to her – even Brandon and his son. She'd heard them calling out, swearing that they would pray for her as she had requested.

Katherine shook her head. "He would not…"

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

The other woman's eyes were angry, but that was just a veneer. Underneath they were haunted, because deep down Katherine knew Anne was right. "No," she said finally.

"Perhaps Jane will speak for her," Anne commented. "I know she supported her." Who would speak for Elizabeth now? Who would dare? She could only hope that Jane would prove a kinder stepmother to Elizabeth than she had been to Mary. Though she wasn't sure if praying was a useful endeavor in the afterlife, she decided it could do no harm. _Lord, please, don't let my daughter suffer for my sins. Please, don't let her be blamed because her father came to hate me._


	7. Shattered

Disclaimer: Not mine. Do you actually need me to tell you that?

_**Chapter 6 - Shattered:**_ It was hard to say how much time had passed. There were ways to pass the time – embroidery materials, a deck of cards, a chess set. There were even blank leather-bound books and implements to write or draw.

Both women had devoted themselves to solitary pursuits at first, before that finally became tiresome. It was Anne who lost patience and suggested that they play chess. She regretted it at first when Katherine beat her soundly every time. But soon they were more evenly matched, and if Anne was right about her next move…

"Checkmate," she informed the other woman with a faint grin. Katherine tipped her king over and smiled slightly herself. For a moment it seemed as though the ice between them was cracked a little, if not yet broken, but then the mirror flared to life. Both of them turned to face it, immediately distracted.

Mary sat at a desk, staring down at a piece of paper. Anne would have bet anything she knew what was written on it.

"What if I do not sign it?" Mary asked the other person in the room – Chapuys.

"It is very possible the King will put you to death," the Imperial ambassador said grimly. Mary paled slightly, her breath coming unevenly as she fought back tears. "You can sign and then make what is called a 'protestation apart'," Chapuys continued. "A promise made under duress is not binding, and the Holy Father will absolve you." Mary frowned, clearly at a loss.

Katherine was torn. She did not want to see Mary give in, declaring herself a bastard and calling Katherine's marriage invalid. But if Chapuys could ensure Papal forgiveness for Mary, her soul would be safe. And as much as Katherine wanted to spend time with her daughter again, she did _not_ want Mary to come here yet. Henry had killed Anne, a woman he'd once loved enough to turn England upside down for. He'd executed Thomas More, a man who had been his close friend for years. Would he hesitate to order the death of his daughter? She feared that he would not. She watched Mary, terrified for her child.

Then Mary snatched up her quill and signed the paper, her expression anguished. Throwing the quill down, she whispered, "As long as I live, I will never forgive myself." Katherine had never wished so desperately, in all the long months she'd been here, that she could speak to Mary, to go to her. She wanted to hug her little girl close again and assure her that it was all right, that she would have never wanted to see Mary killed for this, and she would never blame her for signing if that was the alternative. It wasn't worth it.

Anne watched the scene unfold and saw the effect it had on her companion. She wanted to apologize – the Oath was partly her fault, after all – but something stopped her. Part of it was guilt, and the knowledge that no words could ever make up for pain like this. But more than that, she wasn't sure the apology would be sincere. She'd honestly thought, at the time, that the Oath was the only way to secure Elizabeth's future. In hindsight, she could see how the bloodshed might have turned people against her beautiful little girl, but that didn't change her motivations. She could not apologize for doing – or simply condoning – something to keep her child safe. Katherine would have done the same for Mary, and so Anne felt she could not be sorry. She could and did regret not thinking things through, not seeing that there could be better ways, but she could not regret doing what she had honestly thought was best for her child.

A/N: I was going to put the reconciliations with Mary and Elizabeth in this one, but the tone went too dark for that, so expect that to be the focus of the next chapter.


End file.
